Early This Morning, Late Last Night
by Radio Pessimist
Summary: Set around season one, Fry is still getting used to the chaotic nature of the future. Thankfully, Bender's there to help him at 3 in the morning. Frender, but only if you squint


In and out; in and out. Dreamland was cluttered with advertisements and a full night's rest was becoming an abstract concept to Fry. Where could he get just a bit of peace and quiet? The future contained constant excitement, and every human seemed to have a variant of ADHD.

Fry turned over in his bottom bunk, the bed squeaking as he shifted his weight. He groaned, dragging a palm over his face and letting the appendage fall on to the floor. The futuristic mankind also didn't like total darkness, apparently. Funnily enough, Bender's original room had an advantage over his "closet."

City lights and hover cars and blindingly bright porn hub signs still shone through the blinds, despite their dimming effect on the room. Fry tossed over again, emitting another complained groan.

Bender's visor slid open in response to his best friend's distress, and his eyes flickered to life- albeit, drained life. It was 3:43 AM, after all.

"Sheesh, scumball, what's the issue? Your whinin' woke me up," he grumbled.

"Ugh... It's just... At times like these, I miss the 20th century. The city was a lot quieter, back then, and we had real stuff to block light out so it was easier to sleep." Fry stared at the back of the upper bunk, blankly studying the subtle movements in the mattress coming from his robot companion.

"You're always missing that prehistoric time period. Stop being such a pussy, meatbag, and get used to the 31st century before I make you." His rough voice, sounding as if it had actually been worn away by a heavy usage of alcohol and drugs and smoking cigars, trailed off. Fry shivered, but he wasn't sure why, so he ignored it.

"I'll take you up on your word, then. How ya gonna make me?" The twenty-year-old asked lightly, genuinely curious and not realizing it as the empty threat that it was. Bender rolled his eyes, climbed off the top bunk, and landed on his ass in front of the redhead with a metallic thunk. "Okay, so here's how it's gonna go down. I'm gonna open my personal storage space, you're gonna climb in, and then-"

Fry blinked, and held up his hands. "Woah, woah, woah! Slow down. You're goin' a gazillion miles a minute."

Bender paused, allowing the other to catch up.

"...So you want me to get inside you, or somethin'?" Fry asked hesitantly, lifting the covers off his body. He turned so he was facing his friend, the light of Bender's half-lidded eyes illuminating the room further.

"Yeah, what the hell didja think I was sayin', dirtflake? 'Have sex with a sidewalk and take down the universe while you're at it'? It's not that complicated, haha. Stupid." Bender was glad he couldn't sweat nervously, because he was the stupid one. This was not the correct course of action that would lead to him forcing Fry to "get used to the 31st century." Fuck it, though, his consumption of alcohol was at an all-time low right then and he was close to sober. Who needed logic? This would probably help Fry sleep and get him to shut up for the rest of the night.

"Okay, sounds simple, I guess. Do you want me to just...?" Thank the human god Fry was less intelligent than he.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Hold on a second," Bender clicked his storage door open, chest area emptier than Chernobyl after its second nuclear accident. One would think they'd learned after the first time...

Fry narrowed his eyes, suddenly suspicious. "Wait."

"Huh?" Bender stilled immediately, inwardly freaking out that his friend had realized the problem.

"There's a really expensive-looking ring cushion in your wires."

Bender flicked it out, smacking Fry in the head. Said human cried out in pain, rubbing the offended area and glaring at him before climbing inside.

He'd been cramped here on other occasions. This wasn't his first rodeo around these parts, he sniggered quietly to himself. His right knee curled up against his torso, the last of his body fully fitted within Bender's own depository. A silver hand grasped the door and closed it, leaving Fry to adjust to abrupt total darkness. It was warm, but not excessively, so it was really just perfect. Fry forgot when he closed his eyes, but he fell asleep in mere seconds, finally relaxing after such a long, stressful week. Bender felt safe, like home.

The aforementioned automaton "breathed" a visible sigh of relief, aware that he was a lot heavier with the extra weight, but not quite caring. He climbed on the bottom bunk and powered down, content with the way things had played out.

(Of course, when Leela popped in for a surprise visit the next morning, it was hard to explain- but what honestly mattered to Bender was the present.)


End file.
